They Took The Girl
by TheMancer
Summary: Well, now it's personal ain't it?


**This is my first time writing solely in "Rucks' Narration", so any feedback would be most appreciated. I don't know about you guys, but when I thought Zia had been kidnapped by the Ura, it was kind of the last straw, but I at least let bygones be bygones when i found out she went willingly. By the way, just in case you don't know, a Flash-Step is the ability to teleport short distances, like the Ura do when attacking.**

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><p>As soon as The Kid found out that The Ura had survived the calamity, he'd wanted to help them. He'd wanted them all to work together.<p>

With some Ura warriors on their side, getting the Cores would be so much easier. The Bastion could be completed quicker than ever before, and everything could be fixed. They could heal the rift between the two cultures for good, and strive for a better future. For what brings people closer than the end of the world?

Sure, Zulf went into a rage, but they could help him see reason.

Being confronted with that Ura man at the end of The Grand Rail lifted his spirits. If one could survive, who knows how many others did?

After all, Zulf had to have gone somewhere. Why not into the arms of his people?

The Kid didn't really care about getting taking the hit that was dealt out to him after he had taken the Letter. He'd been through much worse before.

He had given that message to Zia, which had said for her to travel to the Ura Homelands, where their people were gathered. The Kid was overjoyed at that news. The Ura must have been gathering up survivors, just like they had.

Everything would be alright.

They could travel to the east, make peace with Zulf and The Ura, and they could get through this, united.

Me and The Kid had made just one mistake.

We underestimated what was in that damned journal.

The secrets it held, driving Zulf to his people, and then driving his people against The Bastion.

We should have destroyed the thing the moment we had it in our hands.

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><p>The Kid had still held hope when he had seen Zulf at Burnstone Quarry.<p>

They could talk this out. He could bring the diplomat back, and they could move on through this, together.

Then Zulf told him of the siege on The Bastion. He told The Kid to stay away.

But how could he? He had a duty to carry out. His role in this story was not yet at an end.

He had hurried back, running over the land forming underneath his feet, diverting himself around to the back entrance, all the while watching the Ura Warriors destroy The Bastion metres away from him.

If only the Ura hadn't shut the front door. It's rude to lock someone out of their own house.

But then again, compared to Zulf or Zia, The Ura never did have many manners, now did they?

The Kid twirled his hammer from his back, spinning it in his skillful hands, still reluctant to strike, despite the battle waging around the monument.

Couldn't it all be worked out?

Well, i can tell you this: The Ura sure didn't think so.

They struck at him the moment he stepped onto the hub.

The Kid parried on reflex, trying to convey the fact that he didn't want to fight.

They ignored him.

And so he swallowed his hesitations, and fought. These weren't no Gasfellas however. These were finely trained fighting machines. The Kid had his work cut out even more than usual.

Somehow, despite the fact that he was making sure to incapacitate, not kill, he managed to push The Ura back.

He thought that if they saw that he meant no harm, they might be more rational. Well, can't say it worked that way now, can i?

They dragged their unconscious brethren onto their backs, and left in a blast of smoke.

The Kid search through the rubble and hanging dust for us, alone once more.

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><p>As he waded through the disaster, The Kid found more and more evidence of the pain the Ura had inflicted on our safe haven.<p>

He found The Squirt cowering in it's hole.

He found The Pecker huddled in the mailbox.

He found The Anklegator and The Bronze Bull keeping each other company behind The Lost and Found.

He wandered the hub, humming a tune mournfully.

Did anyone else survive?

Sure enough, he found another.

He found me.

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><p>I was huddled in the shrine, cowering behind Micia's Alter.<p>

What? Don't give me that look.

I ain't no idiot, I knew i had no chance against them.

At least I could appreciate the fact that they wouldn't disturb a sacred place. They never want to anger the Gods, The Ura don't.

But where was Zia? We went searching, shouting ourselves hoarse.

That was the only time I ever heard The Kid say anything beyond a grunt. Just goes to show what a Kid will do for those he cares about.

And then, he found it.

Her Harp, lying on its side, scratches along its surface.

She'd been taken.

The Kid picked up that harp with shaking hands, gripping it so tight that I swore I could hear the creaking of its frame. I pried his fingers from it quickly, before he broke it into splinters. His face was as white as a sheet, a fist tightening down by his side.

Now, I ain't scared easily, but the face that Kid made had me shivering in my boots.

Pure rage.

To calm him down, I disclosed the truth of The Calamity. They weren't really at fault for wanting to get revenge, if you looked at it from their point of view. But we're trying to fix everything that happened. Set things right. Attempting to destroy the Bastion just made things worse.

The Kid stood up abruptly after I had explained everything. I knew what he was thinking.

See, The Kid normally left the past in the past. Grudges just got in the way of the job he was carrying out.

But what they had just done… It was unforgivable until the damage was remedied.

The Kid would get the last shard, save Zia, and there wasn't anything that was going to be able to stop him.

All this time, he'd been trying to keep himself in check. The Foreman, Old Gershel, Sir Lunky and Queen Anne. But now? Oh mother, he'd had enough. This was the last straw. He had tried peace and he'd tried meeting them halfway, but to no avail.

It was time the Ura understood exactly who they were challenging.

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><p>The Kid travelled through Urzendra gate faster than anyone before him, traversing the icy plains in just a week.<p>

He rested only once, on day three, in the middle of the night. The Kid lay down to rest on his bedroll, embracing his fitful nightmares as old friends.

He woke up a while later to see an Ura Warrior standing over him, Halberd pressed against his throat.

The Kid kicked into defence instantly. Protect the vital areas. The most in danger at that present moment was the throat.

Whacking the sharp spear aside with an open right palm, The Kid flipped up and backed away quickly, putting some distance between him and the weapon.

He shook his hand in pain, sucking in air sharply as droplets of blood flicked from his palm onto the grass. While pushing the sharp metal away from him had succeeded in protecting his throat, The Kid had paid the price by gashing his palm badly.

Well, better his hand than his oesophagus, right?

Letting his injured hand hang down, red dripping over his fingers, The Kid reached around to his back towards his Life-Long Friend with his other arm. He'd never had as much practice with a left-handed grip, but he could make do for now.

Grasping blindly for his Hammer, The Kid glanced back, and felt his stomach drop.

It wasn't there.

Turning round towards the Warrior, The Kid spied his tent behind the Ura. All of his gear was in there.

Cursing colourfully in his head, The Kid reviewed his options. Trying for his canvas was an obvious way to get skewered. Running was also a no go. The Kid had been witness to how the Ura were able to Flash-Step, there was no getting away from that. Fighting was his only (minuscule) chance.

Eventually, the Ura Warrior got impatient, charging with his deadly implement thrust out in front of him. The sharp metal nicked The Kid's ribs, and he fell to the side, scrambling along the ground and to his feet clumsily.

Breathing heavily, The Kid tried to concentrate on which of his enemy's tendons were tensing, hoping to anticipate attacks. However, the Ura's clothes were too baggy to place any muscle movement, and the headscarf made it hard for The Kid to attempt to identify where the Warrior was looking.

This was going to be impossible if he didn't get in close.

Backing up against the tree, The Kid taunted the man, curling his fingers. The adversary charged once again, this time slicing in clean, wide sweeps. Ducking at the very last second, The Kid felt the thud as the halberd embedded itself into the truck of the tree behind him.

The Kid jumped up, kicked his opponent in the chest, sending him tumbling back, and grabbed the shaft of the halberd, hoping to dislodge it and finish the strife. In spite of his efforts, it was stuck fast in the bark, his endeavour merely wasting precious energy and time.

Before The Kid could try anything else, he was yanked back by his hair, and dragged into a headlock. His breathing cut off, The Kid knew he had seconds before he'd pass out.

Hitting frantically at his foe's face and stamping on his feet, The Kid's mind raced. Mustering up his last ounces of strength before he blacked out, The Kid wrapped his arms around the Ura's waist, and pivoted upwards.

Lifting the man off the ground and backward, The Kid let gravity pull them down, hoping to land on his side. Spilling onto the floor, the Warrior's grip on The Kid's neck loosened, and The Kid broke it instantly, elbowing the man in the gut for good measure before he got up again.

Withdrawing from the dirt and coughing violently, The Kid groaned when his rival also stumbled up.

Lemaign only knows why he wouldn't stay down.

Then again, it's probably the same reason The Kid didn't stay down.

Service for their countries. Both of them knew the rules of engagement. In a fight, there are no morals, no good or bad. There is no chance for hesitation. All that governs the outcome is Skill, Chance and Perseverance. Both knew that the other would not stay down until they were dead.

As if acting on the same mark, the two combatants dashed towards each other, fists raised. The Kid slipped under the first wide punch, replying with 2 jabs towards the side of the man's ribs. Reacting quickly, the Warrior uppercutted, bringing The Kid out of his crouched position, snapping his head back painfully.

The blow had hit directly on the underside of his chin, making him bite his tongue. Screaming with a closed mouth, The Kid struck out quickly, his blind jab being parried and responded to with a knee to the stomach.

Doubling over, The Kid tried to figure out a strategy. His mind was too clouded with pain!

The Warrior came in once again, swinging into The Kid's nose, which burst with blood from the impact.

The Kid's legs buckled, bringing him to his knees, and he looked up into his assailants eyes.

There was no joy there. Not even a hint of patriotism. They were the eyes of a man doing his job, no more, no less. The man seemed to be deciding how to proceed.

Taking his chance and praying to The Son for a clear shot, The Kid clenched his wounded hand, digging his fingers further into the cut already present, making it bleed more profusely. Jerking the hand up quickly, he flicked specks of blood straight through the opening in the headscarf the fighter was wearing, and straight into his eyes.

With his foe temporarily blinded, The Kid threw his arms out in front of himself quickly, grabbing onto the billowing material the Ura wore, pulling on it sharply, swinging the man around in a semi-circle and straight into the tree that was once again situated behind them. The Warrior slumped down at the base of the trunk, barely lucid from the sudden blow to the back of his head.

Limping over towards the Halberd still stuck in the bark, The Kid planted his feet, and tugged violently on the weapon, freeing it from its groove. Hobbling back in front of the Ura, The Kid brought the Halberd up for the killing blow, and hesitated.

The former enemy focused his eyes, looking up at The Kid, and nodded.

Ain't no shame in losing to a better man (or in this case, Kid).

One should always pay respects to a worthy opponent.

The Kid nodded back, and the man closed his eyes, breathing out. The Kid certainly gave him a clean death, now didn't he? Plunged that halberd into his victim's chest, piercing straight through the heart.

Now there could be an open casket.

Wrenching on the handle of the weapon, and letting it clatter to the hard ground, The Kid collapsed down next to his former adversary, leaning his back against the tree. Gathering the blood up in his mouth from his bitten tongue, he spat the vital liquid over to the side.

Despite this, more blood streamed across his mouth and down his chin. He'd forgot he had a nose-bleed. How many more injuries had lapsed his mind?

Turning his head sideward, The Kid took in the Ura's face.

He hadn't even known the man's name, and he had just taken his life. At least the nameless warrior was now at peace.

The same couldn't be said for The Kid.

Clambering to his feet, The Kid shuffled over to his tent. He had to get a health tonic and some bandages to counteract the damage to his body, before he died of blood loss.

He took one last look over his shoulder at the dead body he had just created minutes prior.

It was safe to say he didn't bother snoozing again.

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><p>Eventually, He got to the last shard, He got back-stabbed, and He got stolen from. But the main thing is, even after all that, He got up.<p>

He came back here, and set off again instantly. I knew how he felt. We could get the Shard when Zia was safe. We could heal ourselves when Zia was safe. We could rest once Zia was safe. Everything else was inconsequential.

Landing in Zulten's hollow, The Kid jumped up, his breath visible due to the drop in temperature.

Well now it's personal ain't it. It's personal for him. And it's personal for me.

He cricked his neck, and flexed his fingers on the grip of his Life-Long Friend.

No more holding back.

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><p><strong>Hey! Thanks for reading! As always, Reviews and Favourites would be much appreciated, I would really like it if i could get some feedback and maybe some constructive criticism. But again, I'm not going to force you. Hope you enjoyed the story. I don't think i'm that great at writing "Rucks' Narration" to be honest. But then again, i haven't been really impressed with my work these days. It just doesn't seem to be up to my internal standard.<strong>


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